This is the 73rd episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. Excerpts from conversations with Malaysian-based workers from Jajarkot, hired under a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/fee-free-migration-is-possible" target="_blank">responsible recruitment drive</a> 18 months ago. Some of the candidates were previously interviewed last November 3.&nbsp; Jeevan Shahi As the eldest son, I support 10 family members: my wife and two sons, my parents during illness and festivals, my brother’s family while he prepares for the civil service exam, and my sister who is a student. If one person living abroad helps 10 family members, I am content to be a migrant worker overseas. My sons are now 14 and 12. They are growing up quickly, and I miss them. Mostly, I miss my elderly parents. They tell me they think of me when they are eating good food, especially when my mother cooks meat. My mother also misses me when there are fresh apples or cucumbers from the field. I worry about my parents most.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251103141128_5f55dcd01a1c236a250fe116e0f869a50b2866cac33cff9bb7ae375293dfef2a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251103141128_5f55dcd01a1c236a250fe116e0f869a50b2866cac33cff9bb7ae375293dfef2a" data-rendition-name="original" width="914" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="responsible recruitment Jajarkot"> <figcaption>Jeevan Shahi in Malaysia.</figcaption> </figure>  I recently sent them a smart phone which my father is still trying to learn how to use. Until recently, I could only see their faces when my family members were visiting them. I watched them this Dasain, and it made me homesick. Once my father learns to use the phone we can have more frequent video calls. Before coming to Malaysia, I had only gone to India to work. But when I saw that we did not have to pay any recruitment fees for this job, I thought, why not give it a try. It turned out to be a good decision. Otherwise, I would have gone to India where I could earn Rs20,000 at most. Here, with overtime, I can earn over Rs100,000. With my savings, I have bought land near the market in Kohalpur where I moved a few years back. I plan to build a house and run a small ice cream business there.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251103141124_76e080f9d75412f596dfd0fb8b4f6628e02028ccef78c3c5234d83442cd0d275.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251103141124_76e080f9d75412f596dfd0fb8b4f6628e02028ccef78c3c5234d83442cd0d275" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="908" loading="lazy" alt="responsible recruitment Jajarkot"> <figcaption>Jeevan Shahi with friends in Malaysia.</figcaption> </figure>  I have to think about a viable business plan because unlike in the mountains, you have to even buy water in the Tarai. My father has suggested we bring down two of our buffalos from Jajarkot to Kohalpur for the ice cream venture. I am not impressed with the watered down milk from the dairy. I will have to invest in ice-cream makers, refrigerators, physical facilities and several pushcarts. I will engage all my family members, and believe that it will be a lucrative business.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025110315118_4da135fcd504e80ae82263cc7b983aab9a43b02702cb5bce6e20f69522ffa021.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025110315118_4da135fcd504e80ae82263cc7b983aab9a43b02702cb5bce6e20f69522ffa021" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Jajarkot earthquake"> <figcaption>3 November 2023 Jajarkot earthquake.</figcaption> </figure>  I vividly remember the earthquake two years ago. It still makes my body tremble. We had gone to Jajarkot to my parents’ house from Kohalpur. We were fast asleep when the earthquake struck at 11PM. When the house started shaking, we thought it was ghosts. We rushed outside. There was no phone signal, and people were blowing whistles. We dared not go back to the house. It was difficult to go to sleep. It was Jajarkot’s black day. Janak Bahadur Singh Within a month of arriving in Malaysia, my mother fell sick. She needed surgery and had to be rushed to Nepalganj and medical costs were more than Rs400,000. We relied on loans, including from colleagues in Malaysia to cover the costs.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251103141132_019978d723ded0ae568d84f0b3bea41739ae6b128a4b90966ab8b780df93709f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251103141132_019978d723ded0ae568d84f0b3bea41739ae6b128a4b90966ab8b780df93709f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="responsible recruitment Jajarkot NT"> <figcaption>Janak Bahadur Singh in Malaysia.</figcaption> </figure>  When there is a family member abroad, it is easier for folks back home to borrow money from local lenders. I have now paid off my loans, and my mother is doing better. I had to postpone plans to rebuild our house, but now I have used my savings to pay an advance to builders. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/quake-survivors-migrate-for-work">Quake survivors migrate for work</a> But just before Dasain, my brother’s two daughters were swept away by a river in Nepalganj and drowned. We are in mourning and have postponed construction for six months, and hopefully the advance will be reimbursed. Since we will not be using my savings immediately for the house, I might invest it for my sister’s plan to migrate to Japan. Srijung B K It has been two years since the earthquake, and 18 months since I came here. We have not &nbsp;received support from the Nepal government other than the Rs50,000 to build a temporary shelter. With my overseas earnings, we have bought land in the market area since the family home is in a remote area. My long-term plan is to start an agro-vet shop and poultry farm, for which the new location is more suitable. I hope to start building a house in the coming year.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251103141132_e015105d653f019750cb6e364da5188672581167a97ea07f9f4575a8e0b5e5f6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251103141132_e015105d653f019750cb6e364da5188672581167a97ea07f9f4575a8e0b5e5f6" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="responsible recruitment Jajarkot NT"> <figcaption>Srijung B K with his family in Jajarkot.</figcaption> </figure>  This is my first overseas work, and I plan to stay for another six or seven years if all goes well. I miss my family and the village environment back in Jajarkot, but it helps that many of us from my village are also here. Remittances have helped my family cover household expenses. My father used to support the family with his carpentry job but his health is failing as he ages. So I have stepped up.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251103141132_bbf661fd1d162cd5cad4498bf2c0dab1d9f9b8c9a19e5b668b064645266ec843.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20251103141132_bbf661fd1d162cd5cad4498bf2c0dab1d9f9b8c9a19e5b668b064645266ec843" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="responsible recruitment Jajarkot NT"> <figcaption>Srijung B K in Malaysia.</figcaption> </figure>  Khadak Singh After the earthquake I came to Malaysia, and with my earnings have paid off our Rs800,000 loan for my father’s medical expenses. I have also bought land in Kohalpur. Paying off the loans is a big relief to the family, since the debt trap created a lot of tension in the household. Now we are free from that burden. I plan to stay here for another five years or so. Other than the first tranch of the Rs50,000 we received from the Nepal government to build a temporary shelter, there has been no other help. We added some of our own money to make decent temprorary living quarters.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251103141152_dc34256f7287bd30d6167c20cd252d291bf0d7b6b8d839fec57664bebc329e32.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20251103141152_dc34256f7287bd30d6167c20cd252d291bf0d7b6b8d839fec57664bebc329e32" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="responsible recruitment Jajarkot"> <figcaption>Khadak Singh being interviewed for the Malaysia job.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251103141152_f65cfd8888d9aec696b89c544985617fa4d58234aff51e0bc9e103bdda1a9d29.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20251103141152_f65cfd8888d9aec696b89c544985617fa4d58234aff51e0bc9e103bdda1a9d29" data-rendition-name="original" width="1143" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="responsible recruitment Jajarkot"> <figcaption>Khadak Singh in Malaysia.</figcaption> </figure>  Uncertainty about government reconstruction guidelines for more support has delayed our plans to rebuild our house. I don’t have much expectation, but will build a house regardless in Kohalpur and bring my family down. I continue to write <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cQvM_yAUETg" target="_blank">songs</a> in Malaysia, and when the time and situation allow it, I plan to record them in a studio. When I last migrated to Malaysia, it was just to get out of Nepal and I did not achieve much. This time, I am planning better and working hard to achieve my goals. <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/cQvM_yAUETg?si=AKM2UNMYBHytckNq" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div> Bir Bahadur Karki When I was working in Saudi Arabia, I had once visited a goat farm in the desert. After seeing how 150 goats were raised in such an arid place, it made me think of everything we could do in our village where there is more vegetation. These thoughts kept recurring, and I was so determined to run a farm back home that I resigned from my job and returned to Nepal. Many advised me I could get better returns if I invested elsewhere, but I put all my money into buying land and building sheds for goats, chicken, and fish ponds. I did not have much experience, but started with different goat breeds. But they got sick and I suffered heavy losses. I sought help from the government, but there was no support besides a small grant and recognition as a ‘best farmer’. I struggled to pay my taxes, so I decided to migrate overseas so I could save enough to invest in agriculture in Nepal. My heart is still in it, and my only hope is to one day become the best livestock farmer. So far, I have saved Rs1.5 million and am planning to eventually set up a dairy farm in Nepal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251103141156_ce2b2ce11895128c1b66688a16944ae08d7b0f9e8e2118d88d402f0a97ab04af.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20251103141156_ce2b2ce11895128c1b66688a16944ae08d7b0f9e8e2118d88d402f0a97ab04af" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="responsible recruitment Jajarkot"> <figcaption>Bir Bahadur Karki in Malaysia. Right: with his mother in Nepal.</figcaption> </figure>  My wife is already doing lemon and orange agriculture back home, with saplings from the government although we don’t have much income from that business yet. I advise her from Malaysia, and we both discuss and make decisions together. I am confident that we will do better in future. My family in Jajarkot is still living in a temporary shelter. There has been no housing grant, and the guidelines are confusing. My wife was expecting when I came to Malaysia, and there is no male member of my family after my father died. I have put in extra effort to build a comfortable, well-insulated shelter. My son was born three months after I came to Malaysia. I was extremely nervous when my wife went into labour. When my sister-in-law called to tell me that the baby was born, I was relieved and shared the good news with my friends. I plan to stay on in Malaysia since I have some debts to pay off. I will be home next Dasain, and that is when I will get to see my son for the first time.

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Nepali migrant workers rebuild lives

This is the 72nd episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. My father ran a store and that is where I spent all my time till Grade 6. Doing my homework. Serving customers. I then moved to my maternal grandparents’ house because I used to get along with my cousin who was a year older than me. We did everything together, and were best friends. We took turns studying: I was a night owl, and he was an early riser. Before I went to bed after studying all night, I woke him up. My mother was 44 when I was born, the same year my eldest brother got married. My sister-in-law becoming a part of our family was how my mother referenced my age. I liked making money, and was always a hustler. In Grade 7, I learnt to handle a tractor and helped my brother-in-law to plough, earning Rs10 a day. As I got better, he paid me more. By Grade 9, I was already making Rs500 per day, but had to slow down to prepare for my exams. From an early age I knew I did not want a 9-5 job. There just wasn’t enough money in it. I wanted to get into business, and compared my brother who worked in the post office and what businessmen made. It did not help that my brother was honest, and never took bribes. A friend and I made money selling cheap Chinese phones at a premium to our friends. We blasted music on the phones and pretended that we were giving them a discount. After SLC, I started teaching math and other subjects. I was soon a shareholder in the same school and in the evening I was involved in our family’s floriculture business, growing amaranth and marigold for garlands.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020844_1b54b999d67122a50c4c7e6204cc737bcc99bf2a68db6499a4566a7f61a880b4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250831020844_1b54b999d67122a50c4c7e6204cc737bcc99bf2a68db6499a4566a7f61a880b4" data-rendition-name="original" width="955" height="1314" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  It was then that a friend suggested we learn the Korean language. We could be earning significantly higher in Korea for similar efforts. I had no plans to go abroad but he convinced me. I did not know anything about Korea, and was scolded at the language institute when I asked someone to point Korea on the map.&nbsp; It was only there that I learnt you had to pass an exam for the Korean Employment Permit System (EPS), and pay for language classes. After a week, I decided it was not for me and dropped out. But my friend convinced me to give it one more try. I did not prepare much for the exam, and it was no surprise that I failed. But it was just by one mark, and people would pity me for failing “just by one mark”. It was a brand of failure. It hurt my ego. I had to turn things around by taking the exams seriously, and locked myself up to study hard.&nbsp; Even when we had visitors, my wife told them I was not home. If I was not in my room learning Korean, I would be with a group of ten of us test-takers comparing notes and practicing late into the night. The exam was difficult, but this time I passed, the only one in my group who did.&nbsp; As someone who never liked the idea of doing a job, I still had my doubts about going to Korea. It did not help that one of my acquaintances had returned a month after he had left, and he discouraged me from migrating given that I was already making good money in Nepal.&nbsp; But my wife suggested that I give it a shot since I had worked so hard for it. And if it really turned out not to be my cup of tea, I could always return. What did I have to lose, I thought, at least I would get to visit Korea. My job there was in an electrical company that made circuit boards. I worked all day, earned good money. In the evenings, I kept myself busy with my real estate business back in Nepal. I had learnt the tricks of the trade from fellow real estate agents back home, but at the time did not have the capital to invest.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020848_941e961e2045058f255ad89884b51faa7d2365c68236e5cbe573d63d769ac6c5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250831020848_941e961e2045058f255ad89884b51faa7d2365c68236e5cbe573d63d769ac6c5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  In Korea, it helped that I had salary records that allowed me to get loans from financial institutions both in Korea and in Nepal. Ultimately, I started earning more from my real estate deals in Nepal than from my job in Korea. This was all thanks to my ability to take loans because of the EPS scheme. My wife has been managing the flower business while I was away. My finances grew stronger over the eight years I was in Korea. I paid off the loans that I had borrowed to buy land. But real estate did not satisfy me entirely. I wondered: what is my brand? What will I be known for? What is my contribution to society? Real estate is for wealth, but that is about it. I needed to sell one piece of land and use the revenue to start a venture. I took classes in business, and returned to Nepal six months ago and got back to my family’s ancestral roots in floriculture. In Nepal too, I am continuing the entrepreneurship training I had started in Korea with the Bridge International. Such exposure helps us reflect on our business such as our branding, vision, and proactive aspects like the importance of strong recordkeeping.&nbsp; I am now working to upgrade and expand my floriculture business. With a friend who is still in Korea I am building a cooling room to increase the shelf-life of flowers and other produce and set up a market in my village where others can sell their produce. Floriculture is our primary business, but it is seasonal and earns good money only during festivals like Tihar.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020848_a008ffeba13896e6918f68ff6e687c8fe11140d86a96f1ec11690547f2bcd415.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250831020848_a008ffeba13896e6918f68ff6e687c8fe11140d86a96f1ec11690547f2bcd415" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  So, I grow tomatoes to ensure year-round earnings. I also am engaged in other businesses like real estate and online shopping. I work round the clock in Nepal — a strong work ethic is something I picked up in Korea.&nbsp; My Korean bosses would work alongside us, that motivated us. I work just as hard in Nepal as I did in Korea. People here often ask me why I am pushing myself so hard. But making garlands comes easy to me, it is work my forebears were involved in. My childhood memories are about plucking flowers with my sister. I have a comparative advantage in this work. It comes naturally to me, it is easy and I enjoy it. And sometimes, if there are too many garlands to make, I can multitask while holding meetings. My fingers just fly. I am good at this job, but my wife is even better and faster.&nbsp; When there is too much load, we can also outsource the work. To be known as the flower guy would be great personal branding. The मखमली guy. Or the सयपत्री guy. I decided to come home for just this with a one-way ticket. “अब पासा: जाँदैन ल्हासा!” &nbsp;

The flower guy

The brouhaha between the tech bros led by Elon Musk and Donald Trump’s nativist supporters over whether to restrict skilled immigrants reflects a deep underlying tension between the politics and economics of migration.&nbsp;
Today’s rich economies owe much of their success to migrants who, by choice or through coercion, laboured on their plantations, factories, mines, and homes. Even now, these countries continue to rely on low- and high-skilled migrant workers to fuel economic growth and dynamism by taking on jobs that native-born workers are unwilling or unable to fill.
Far from displacing local workers, migration tends to boost employment among native-born citizens. Studies have consistently shown that countries with significant foreign-born populations experience faster and more sustained GDP growth. In the US, migrants paid an estimated <a href="https://map.americanimmigrationcouncil.org/locations/national/" target="_blank">$579 billion</a> in federal, state, and local taxes in 2022.
Research also shows that migration does not negatively affect local workers’ wages. Since lower-skilled migrants often take undesirable jobs, such as those involving long night shifts, zero-hours contract work, and heavy labour, their main competitors are usually other migrants.
None of this seems to matter to Trump, whose <a href="https://www.bloomberg.com/features/2024-trump-interview/" target="_blank">unsubstantiated claims</a> include the charge that immigrants are taking “Black jobs.” Rather than competing with native-born Americans, migrants have contributed significantly to US job creation.&nbsp;
Many countries depend so heavily on migrants that their economies would collapse without them. This is especially true in some Gulf countries. Migrants make up roughly <a href="https://comparativemigrationstudies.springeropen.com/articles/10.1186/s40878-024-00390-3" target="_blank">90%</a> of the labor force in the UAE and Qatar.&nbsp;
Elsewhere, foreign workers often fill critical labour gaps, doing jobs that require specialised skills, such as programming, plumbing, or surgery, while lower-skilled migrants handle vital tasks that locals are unwilling to perform like fruit picking and elder care.
Thriving economies naturally attract more migrants, who, in turn, boost productivity and fuel economic growth. This virtuous cycle explains why cities with the highest migrant concentrations are among the world’s most vibrant and prosperous.
Anti-immigration politicians often portray migrants as a burden on public budgets. In fact, foreign workers tend to contribute more in taxes than they receive in benefits. Even undocumented migrant workers make significant contributions to government finances.
Refugees, unlike economic migrants, can sometimes become a burden on social systems. But this is largely due to restrictive immigration policies in countries like the UK, where asylum seekers are prohibited from working and forced to rely on public services.
Increased migration also offers clear demographic advantages. Most advanced economies, as well as many developing countries, including China, now have birth rates below replacement levels, which, combined with rising life expectancy, have led to rapid population aging.&nbsp;
By 2050, the number of people aged 60 and older worldwide is <a href="https://www.oxfordmartin.ox.ac.uk/publications/migration-and-the-economy-economic-realities-social-impacts-and-political-choices" target="_blank">expected to double</a> to more than two billion. Workers will be required to pay the taxes that sustain social systems and perform the growing range of jobs that cannot be automated or done remotely, like elder care, personal services, and hospitality.
But there appears to be little correlation between demographic realities and public attitudes. Countries with the world’s lowest fertility rates – such as Poland, Hungary, Japan, and South Korea – are among those most opposed to migration.&nbsp;
Nevertheless, public attitudes toward migration can and do change as people grow more accustomed to foreigners in their midst and begin to recognize the necessity of migrant labour.
Migration provides two key ingredients of a dynamic economy: a growing pool of highly educated workers and a diverse workforce that fosters innovation and entrepreneurship.&nbsp;
To be sure, not all migrants are exceptional or even law-abiding. Even so, criminality rates among migrants are typically lower than those of native-born citizens.
But if migration offers such clear benefits, why do so many people and politicians oppose it? The disconnect between economic reality and political discourse is reflected in surveys showing that people <a href="https://ourworldindata.org/data-insights/many-people-overestimate-the-percentage-of-immigrants-in-their-country" target="_blank">tend to overestimate</a> the size of their countries’ <a href="https://www.citigroup.com/global/insights/migration-and-the-economy" target="_blank">migrant populations</a> and in the anti-immigrant rhetoric of parties across the political spectrum.&nbsp;
Politicians, often assisted by audience-hungry media, have learned that sensationalised images of foreigners ‘flooding’ or ‘swamping’ their countries attract those who confront job insecurity, limited access to public services, or unaffordable housing. Even immigrants and their descendants are not immune to the influence of such messaging.
Walls and fences have long been a favored tool of anti-immigration politicians. But while they serve as powerful symbols of sovereignty, physical barriers are often counterproductive. Instead of deterring migration, they tend to trap as many people within a country’s borders as they keep out.
There are currently more than <a href="https://www.americanimmigrationcouncil.org/research/mass-deportation" target="_blank">13 million undocumented workers</a> in the US, many of whom have been in the country for decades. Deporting them en masse would undermine the economy, harming US-born workers in the process.&nbsp;
Industries like construction, <a href="https://cmsny.org/agricultural-workers-rosenbloom-083022/" target="_blank">agriculture</a>, and <a href="https://www.latimes.com/food/story/2020-05-26/meatpacking-industry-immigrant-undocumented-workers" target="_blank">meat processing</a>, where undocumented workers account for a significant share of the labour force, would be hit particularly hard. The result would be sharp increases in housing and food prices, as well as the costs of elder and infant care, hospitality, and other services.
Implementing a mass deportation program would face <a href="https://ohss.dhs.gov/sites/default/files/2024-06/2024_0418_ohss_estimates-of-the-unauthorized-immigrant-population-residing-in-the-united-states-january-2018%25E2%2580%2593january-2022.pdf" target="_blank">enormous</a> legal, logistical, and economic obstacles that would likely take years to overcome.
Much of the migration debate is focused on the impact of migrants on the countries that receive them, but, as the example of remittances suggests, the effects on the countries they leave are equally important – and not necessarily positive.&nbsp;
While India, China, and the Philippines <a href="https://www.statista.com/chart/4015/the-top-countries-for-highly-educated-migrants/" target="_blank">produce</a> the largest number of educated migrants, regions like Sub-Saharan Africa, the Caribbean, and Central America lose a far higher proportion of their university graduates.&nbsp;
As migrants gain skills and income, they often channel these resources back to their home countries, bringing both expertise and investments that foster economic development.&nbsp;
In many developing economies, remittances sent by migrants abroad exceed aid and investment combined. In <a href="https://www.investmentmonitor.ai/features/lebanon-remittance-dependent-country-world/" target="_blank">Lebanon</a>, they account for 28% of GDP, and between 32% and 48% of GDP in <a href="https://knomad-ois.assyst.in/publication/migration-and-development-brief-39" target="_blank">Tajikistan, Tonga, and Samoa</a>. (In Nepal it is 24% of the GDP.)&nbsp;
These funds have a transformative impact, supporting investments in education, health, housing, and productive assets such as seeds, tractors, and sewing machines. Consequently, communities with high migration rates are often better off economically than they would be otherwise.
While studies show that migrants tend to achieve at least some of their aspirations, many face abuse and danger even after they reach their destinations, enduring social and economic exclusion, xenophobia, loneliness, and violence.
Moreover, migrants often take on dangerous jobs that local workers avoid. Migrant women, in particular, are frequently employed as cleaners, cooks, and caregivers – isolated and insecure jobs often lacking basic protections.
The idea of open borders may seem politically suicidal nowadays, but they were largely the norm until the twentieth century. The EU’s Schengen area, which allows free movement across member states, demonstrates how such systems can work effectively.
The anti-immigration sentiment sweeping the US and many other countries contrasts with the growing recognition among economists that cross-border migration, when managed properly, can benefit host and source countries alike.&nbsp;
So far, the economists have been ignored. Increasingly restrictive policies targeting migrants from developing economies have jeopardised an essential lifeline for those seeking to escape poverty, conflict, and destitution while damaging the economies that shut the door on them.
Crafting a more humane and open immigration system, one that maximises opportunities while mitigating costs, &nbsp;remains one of the biggest challenges facing policymakers.
First, voters and political leaders must acknowledge that migration is, and always has been, a fact of life. Its history is one of profound loss and sorrow, but also of new opportunities and extraordinary progress. © Project Syndicate
<a href="https://iangoldin.org/" target="_blank">Ian Goldin</a> is Professor of Globalization and Development at the University of Oxford and the author of The Shortest History of Migration (<a href="http://oldstreetpublishing.co.uk/100/the-shortest-history-of-migration" target="_blank">Old Street Publishing</a>, 2024, <a href="https://theexperimentpublishing.com/catalogs/winter-2025/the-shortest-history-of-migration/" target="_blank">The Experiment</a>, 2025).

The truth about migration

Nepal is set to lift its ban on domestic workers migrating to West Asia, starting with a pilot agreement with <a href="https://kathmandupost.com/money/2023/06/14/uae-requests-nepal-to-resume-sending-domestic-helpers" target="_blank">the United Arab Emirates (UAE)</a>. This decision marks a major victory for <a href="https://apwld.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/01/AMKAS-NEPAL-final.pdf" target="_blank">advocacy groups</a>, <a href="https://www.fairrecruitmenthub.org/sites/default/files/2023-10/wcms_451050.pdf" target="_blank">human rights organisations</a>, <a href="https://www.ilo.org/publications/no-easy-exit-%E2%80%93-migration-bans-affecting-women-nepal" target="_blank">the ILO</a>, <a href="https://www.worecnepal.org/content/340/2022-05-18" target="_blank">activists</a>, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/safer-migration-for-women" target="_blank">media</a>, and <a href="https://www.degruyter.com/document/doi/10.1515/til-2022-0017/html?lang=en&amp;srsltid=AfmBOoowfsJ6whGxR5B4vGFYhAbIaJgRdqoSFsvgciRPPrmNHncBAzFx" target="_blank">scholars</a> who have campaigned against the restriction, saying <a href="https://www.brunel.ac.uk/about/brunel-public-policy/news-and-events/news/Policy-briefs/Societal-challenges/Policy-Brief-Reducing-Vulnerability-to-Exploitation-of-Nepali-Migrant-Domestic-Workers-%E2%80%93-Dr-Ayushman-Bhagat" target="_blank">it increases the vulnerability of workers to exploitation</a>.
This legally binding agreement with a country that employs hundreds of thousands of Nepali domestic workers should be a cause for celebration, but lifting the migration ban on a pilot basis raises pressing questions.&nbsp;
How will the government select the 5,000 domestic workers? How will it reach prospective workers? And what provisions will be made for those migrating to the UAE without permits?
We also need to look at how the government plans to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-plans-to-reintegrate-returning-workers">reintegrate returnee workers</a>, and engage rights organisations, activists, and scholars in the consultation and negotiation process, and recognise unrecognised Nepali migrant domestic workers already in the UAE.
The lack of information on Nepali domestic workers abroad stems from long-standing migration bans imposed by the government as a protectionist policy. For years, <a href="https://comparativemigrationstudies.springeropen.com/articles/10.1186/s40878-021-00250-4" target="_blank">Nepal has imposed various degrees and forms of bans on domestic workers' mobility</a>, mainly affecting women, culminating in <a href="https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=4175277" target="_blank">a blanket ban since 2017</a>. This was eased in 2020 with the <a href="https://www.ilo.org/publications/comprehensive-analysis-policies-and-frameworks-governing-foreign-employment" target="_blank">introduction of seven preconditions</a>, but it only reinforced barriers instead of offering a solution.
Despite the restrictions, <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0962629822000129" target="_blank">Nepalis continued migrating for domestic work</a>, both through formal and informal channels. Many <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/women-on-the-move-89kx6lii">resort to illicit routes</a>, making it nearly impossible to count their numbers. Some reports estimate between <a href="https://ekantipur.com/en/news/2024/09/20/amid-the-ban-at-least-60000-women-are-domestic-workers-in-the-gulf-32-59.html" target="_blank">60,000</a>-<a href="https://brunel.figshare.com/articles/online_resource/Reducing_Vulnerability_to_Exploitation_of_Nepali_Migrant_Domestic_Workers/26892934/1?file=48931666" target="_blank">100,000</a>, but anecdotal evidence suggests that the figure could be as high as 500,000. This scale reflects the immense vulnerability of Nepali domestic workers abroad.
<a href="https://kathmandupost.com/columns/2024/08/10/who-benefits-from-migration-bans" target="_blank">Many feel abandoned by those meant to protect and fight for them</a>. Nepal embassies in destination countries fail to support them after they flee abuse and exploitation, especially as they are undocumented.
In many cases, employers confisticate passports or documents of the workers. Stripped of their identity, they rely on the Nepali diaspora or agents to navigate the host country as ‘illegal immigrants’ facing risks of raids, criminalisation, and further exploitation. Many returnee Nepali women have spent months in jail in Gulf countries before being deported back to Nepal.
The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/two-decades-of-debate-on-female-migration">vulnerabilities and exploitation of migrant domestic workers</a> are discussed in the media, policy, and academic circles, but their deaths are consistently overlooked. Migrant worker fatalities have become synonymous with just male workers, and there is a troubling silence surrounding the deaths of systematically disadvantaged women who are domestic workers.
They often die by suicide, due to exploitation, or from work-related illnesses. Yet, migration bans and the lack of political will to acknowledge the lives, labour, health, and deaths of these women prevent justice for them and their families in the face of tragedy.
Many who die never have their bodies returned to Nepal. For those who are repatriated, it is often due to the intervention of domestic worker organisations in Nepal or the diaspora.&nbsp;
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-town-to-ban-mothers-migrating">Migration bans</a> worsen this tragedy, making it nearly impossible for families to report missing or deceased loved ones for<a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/pdf/10.1111/anti.12882" target="_blank"> fear of being criminalised as "traffickers"</a>.
The exploitation and deaths of migrant <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/history-of-female-im-mobility-in-nepal">female domestic workers</a> are ignored due to the grip of patriarchy, class, and caste on Nepal's labour and migration policies. These policies control their mobility, devalue their labour, and fail to provide dignified, sustainable jobs, making their bodies disposable.&nbsp;
As a result, <a href="https://www.brunel.ac.uk/research/Centres/Global-Lives/Forced-Migrant-Labourers/Migrant-Domestic-Workers-of-Nepal" target="_blank">many Nepali women feel abandoned</a> by their state, society, and families. Yet, despite this, they never abandon Nepal or their loved ones.
Many Nepali women migrate to break the cycle of <a href="https://ekantipur.com/opinion/2024/08/06/emergence-of-caste-slavery-among-nepalese-women-27-27.html" target="_blank">caste-based discrimination and gender violence by sending remittances for their children's education</a>. Hence, when a female domestic worker dies, it’s not just their family that suffers, the impact extends to their children and the nation’s future.&nbsp;
These sacrifices of these women, crucial to Nepal’s socio-economic progress, must be acknowledged, valued, and protected. The government must prioritise unconditional recognition of all domestic workers abroad to address the impact of exploitation and deaths of Nepali female migrant domestic workers.
It must inform the Nepali diaspora that it will unconditionally recognise all migrant domestic workers, regardless of documentation status: perhaps the only way to count them abroad.
As Nepal prepares to lift the migration ban on domestic workers, it must not abandon its most vulnerable citizens. This neglect heightens their vulnerability to exploitation and death, and threatens their families in times of tragedy.
&nbsp;We urge the government to raise this issue during the negotiations with the UAE, request immunity for these workers, and take the crucial step of counting domestic workers through Nepali embassies and consulates.
Once this step is taken, the government must expand its welfare net, such as providing insurance coverage, to safeguard workers and their families in worst-case scenarios. Insuring hundreds of thousands of Nepali domestic workers is not just protection, it is an investment in the well-being and future of Nepal.
We hope the pilot program leads to the full lifting of migration bans. But before we celebrate, we must not forget the hundreds of thousands of undocumented Nepali migrant domestic workers already in the Gulf. They are citizens too, and it is the duty of the state not to abandon them.
Ayushman Bhagat, PhD, is a lecturer in Political Geography at Brunel University of London, and Sunita Mainali is the Executive Director of WOREC, Nepal.

Ban on female migrant workers to be lifted

This is the 54th edition of Diaspora Diaries, a regular column about migration in Nepali Times. <h2>Kumar BK</h2> I have enjoyed playing the flute since I was a young boy. I used to play it in the forest while tending to my cattle or collecting firewood near my village in Khotang. But I am a self-taught musician, I have never played professionally. I know I am not as good as other professional flute players like those I often watch on YouTube. Reaching that skill level requires professional training. It took me a lot of practice to reach my present level. My learning was interrupted because of going overseas. Growing up, my father was always abroad: first in Malaysia and then Qatar. I stayed with my maternal uncle, and childhood was a constant struggle. I had to help my grandparents with the family business, so I only got to attend school thrice a week. Even then, I somehow passed Grade 12. My father returned for good, and in 2014 it was my turn to go and work in Malaysia. I did not manage to save much because of household expenses. My brother has health problems, and a lot of my savings went for his treatment. After three years in Malaysia, I went to Dubai in 2020. Because of a bad contract and Covid-19, things did not work out as I anticipated. During the lockdown I spent a few months in my room without work or pay. Eventually I did get a good job, but after two years my contract was not renewed because of slow business. I came home last year and am now headed to Qatar. Let’s see how things go this time. When my father was away, he used to write home once every few months. We received news of his well-being with much relief. Times have changed now.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241214021252_bd2e1b0d8050a884a0efe8ae78bd0d95053424b62ebe6d5bb5a086b07b4bcd8c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241214021252_bd2e1b0d8050a884a0efe8ae78bd0d95053424b62ebe6d5bb5a086b07b4bcd8c" data-rendition-name="original" width="963" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Kumar BK DD 54"></figure>  With my father sending money, we were able to afford household expenses. Before my father left, we lived in a bamboo shed with a small room, but now we have a house and land. He lifted us to a state where we no longer have to worry about affording food or a roof on our heads. Other hardships remain. As a son of a migrant, there was always the expectation that he would bring us a mobile phone. It is only later after working overseas that I realised it is not so easy. My overseas experience did not lead to much progress. We had many unanticipated expenses that took precedence: someone falling ill, someone falling down and needing hospital care. Random expenses left few savings. I have now realised that it is difficult to make progress from migration alone if we do not have other ways to supplement our overseas earnings. If households back home can cover basic expenses like food, overseas earnings can be channeled to more productive investment to uplift the family. If remittance from one family member is the sole income source, then we migrate just to survive. Migrant workers like me have just one goal: to earn as much as possible in a limited timeframe. I am headed overseas again with the same thought. Back in my village, I look for a quiet, shaded spot in a nearby forest to play my flute by myself while tending to livestock. I am often away now, but my neighbours in the village say that when they hear the sound of a flute from the forest, they know I am home. I am taking my flute with me to Qatar. I will practice in my room in my free time. Playing it in my room will give me comfort. <h2>Deepak Darji</h2> I was very young when I lost my father. After that my mother also started falling ill. Before that, our family was doing just fine financially. My childhood was not easy because of her poor health and my father’s absence. School was not really a priority. I had to make sure my mother had the medicines keeping her alive. I had household chores like cooking. My mother often reminded me to go to school, but how could I? The responsibilities were on my shoulders from a young age. At least now, she is getting a cash grant from the government that has eased things a bit. Over the years, I have been doing odd jobs. Things are not easy and finding regular work is difficult in the village. As a musician, I am part of a पञ्चे बाजा troupe that plays at weddings and other rituals. If the event is far from where we live, we make about Rs4,000 and if close by, it can be up to Rs3,000. The frequency of events varies. Some months we have four or five, while at other times it is less. Over a decade ago, I went to Dubai but did not get to work or earn as planned despite spending almost Rs200,000 in fees. I had to rely on fellow villagers in Dubai for help, but they told me this was not a sustainable way to live overseas. They were right. I came home before the end of my contract, and was heavily in debt because I could not save enough to pay my recruitment loans. In fact, I had to borrow additional money to sustain myself while in Dubai.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241214021252_9c68e45a42623952ca8be0e97e8f45f10851f90e5ab33b3646ccbca962666f06.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241214021252_9c68e45a42623952ca8be0e97e8f45f10851f90e5ab33b3646ccbca962666f06" data-rendition-name="original" width="720" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Deepak Darji"></figure>  After returning, I have migrated to various places in India including Shillong, Lucknow, Delhi and Mumbai to work in construction or hotels. I also did short term police duties during the election in Nepal, and the earnings helped while getting to serve the country. I have tried to go overseas again but the first failed experience left a deep scar in my psyche. It was difficult to trust people who said they would find me jobs. I also did not have the Rs300,000 fee they demanded for a job in the Gulf. For Malta they wanted up to Rs800,000. I could not afford such high costs. Now, I have six children to take care of along with my wife and mother. I was finally able to go overseas because the job did not require any recruitment fees. After all, we migrate in the hope that something will work out. Just about everyone is leaving from my village. The well-to-do ones go to Japan and Australia, and people like us to the Gulf. I am taking my shehnai oboe to Qatar to practice during breaks, or when I am bored. Eventually, I will have to come home and resume performing at events, so I cannot afford to get rusty. I had previously taken it to India as well and fellow Nepalis would sometimes ask me to play after a hard day’s work. Our house in the village is known as the ‘radio house’ because the radio is always on. When my grandfather was alive, people would come over to listen to farming programs and radio dramas. He used to encourage fellow villagers to adopt the farming practices that the radio programs talked about. Even today, the radio plays throughout the day, and if it ever stops, people are startled by the silence and say: “कस्तो सुनसान भयो”. Diaspora Diaries is a Nepali Times collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad.

Migrating with the music of Nepal

“I am headed to Atlantis the Royal to advance my career … it is my dream to work there,” said Kanchan Rai. She passed her apprenticeship interview at one of the most luxurious properties in the UAE, and credits it to her late mother.&nbsp; She says, “I can feel my mother watching over me. After returning to Nepal, I want to start a restaurant in her name.” Other young Nepalis recruited recently by the company Vision and Value shared similar excitement about star chefs at Atlantis they would work with, the multinational colleagues, and opportunities to learn new skills.&nbsp; “Atlantis the Royal in my CV will set me up for life,” beamed another candidate.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024113015110_9280b5bd5b524b83d114714e2f58d9dd0faeea35de3f8e1c761f579372d5819a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024113015110_9280b5bd5b524b83d114714e2f58d9dd0faeea35de3f8e1c761f579372d5819a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Labour mobility"> <figcaption>Kanchan Rai with her colleagues.</figcaption> </figure>  Migrating out of ‘compulsion’ is a common theme in Nepal’s public discourse. But here, बाध्यता as a driver for migration was not a prominent feature, in fact it barely came up.&nbsp; Upward mobility during migration merits more attention. Reputable employers offer opportunities for cross-training and career advancement.&nbsp; Seven years ago, Bikash Tripathi went to the UAE to work as a packing staff. A year into his contract, he used his month-long break to cross-train and five promotions later now works as a pastry chef managing a multinational team of eight.&nbsp; “I was always preparing for the next job when I was working, even if it meant using my holidays or covering for colleagues when they were absent. My supervisors took notice,” says Tripathi, who wants to open a restaurant on return to Nepal. “In addition to saving money, I am glad my parents now have financial freedom and don’t have to worry about making ends meet like they did,” he says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024113015114_739c801ebf914dd055335c39a5c9adcf974de2cc31a45f4c43a50c5dc9d904a3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024113015114_739c801ebf914dd055335c39a5c9adcf974de2cc31a45f4c43a50c5dc9d904a3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Labour mobility"> <figcaption>Pastry chef Bikash Tripathi manages a multinational team of eight in the UAE.</figcaption> </figure>  Some motivated workers invest in their own upskilling. Dharmendra Sah went as a labourer to Qatar at a salary of 700 Riyal. When he left seven years later he was working as a lifting supervisor and earning 6000 Riyals because he followed his colleague’s advice to take a training course.&nbsp; “I did not know what work I would be doing overseas or what my future had in store for me,” he recalls. “I paid 1000 riyals from my own pocket for the training, but it was worth it because it opened up better opportunities.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024113015114_46e72c40ad7707a0abb31a3da82ca2171e5f52c885c1ac2ba8b6753577453380.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2024113015114_46e72c40ad7707a0abb31a3da82ca2171e5f52c885c1ac2ba8b6753577453380" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Labour mobility"> <figcaption>Lifting supervisor Dharmenda Sah who tained and upskilled there abroad.</figcaption> </figure>  The hard-earned perception that Nepalis are loyal and hard-working works to their advantage. But also important is the role of a trusted labour mobility industry to attract the best employers.&nbsp; Ultimately it is the recruiters who matchmake workers and employers. While the internet and more awareness among workers may gradually decrease reliance on them, for now recruitment is heavily intermediated. Factors like under-the-table commissions play a role in helping recruiters bag job demands from overseas employers. These costs are eventually borne by workers as recruitment fees. The competition can be unhealthy with thousands of recruiters from other countries competing against each other.&nbsp; In this race-to-the-bottom, standing out as good actors and responsible businesses can be difficult. Strong credentials are needed, including international licenses and accreditations, marketing and research skills, thorough audits, references from previous clients, capacity to screen and mobilise the right candidates, among others.&nbsp; These aspects of building a strong labour mobility industry have not received adequate policy attention in Nepal. The government also needs to engage more proactively with host country industry associations, employers, and government counterparts.&nbsp; Recruiters often struggle to have a direct approach with employers and instead themselves rely on intermediaries. Interviews with workers in senior positions in the hospitality sector overseas show that Nepal’s recruitment process is rife with bureaucratic hurdles that dissuade employers looking to hire in small numbers.&nbsp; For example, a hotel looking to hire a chef or operation manager would rather not hire from Nepal as it is significantly easier and quicker to do so from the Philippines or India. While these delays are less problematic for bulk hiring, they become a major obstacle for smaller recruitment efforts, or vacancies that need to be filled quickly even when employers are willing to cover all costs and offer competitive salary packages. Attracting good employers to Nepal is not only helpful for migrants’ financial and career growth, but is a way to prevent abuses in the first place. The risk of wage theft or contract infringement is reduced when reputable companies hire directly, and in the event of such incidents, the likelihood of corrective action is higher. Attracting quality employers should be central to Nepal’s foreign employment policy. Setting up migrants for success overseas also means preparing them for success upon return. After working abroad as a rope access cleaner, Rudra Bahadur Gurung established the Asset Integrity Group in Kathmandu, providing internationally accredited training and licensing to both Nepali and non-Nepali migrants seeking to upskill during their vacations.&nbsp; Shiva Sharan Khatri returned to Nepal after working in hotels in Qatar, the UAE, and Seychelles to set up Sankalpa Management Facilities Service, a cleaning company that now employs over 80 workers.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024113015114_91f493ca4928b2a10de1dbfb0e4bdf6b178a416ca27b437a6d49ad12694cca03.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024113015114_91f493ca4928b2a10de1dbfb0e4bdf6b178a416ca27b437a6d49ad12694cca03" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Labour mobility"> <figcaption>Rudra Sharan Khatri returned to set up a cleaning company which employs over 80 people. </figcaption> </figure>  Both Rudra and Shiva began their migration journeys in low-paying positions and leveraged their overseas experiences to create successful enterprises at home. Not only did they earn more, but also applied their experience in their business enterprises back home. A World Bank study in Bangladesh has shown how temporary migration can help migrant workers overcome credit constraints so they can invest in business creation. Unfortunately, this ‘continuum’ is lacking in many migrant workers. Take Gyanendra’s story. His father was the first to migrate to Qatar and villagers called him ‘Arabe Kafle’ because he has moved across Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, and is now headed to Dubai.&nbsp; Gyanendra had to start from scratch each time, and as a cleaner in his new job in the UAE will work for the same basic salary as younger peers migrating for the first time. Remigration is common from Nepal, but many workers like Gyanendra struggle to build on previous experiences. While they can still use earnings to meet household expenses back home, professional growth takes a backseat with each migration episode. In some case, they are compelled to even accept lower wages and benefits.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024113015114_e28445dccaa225fd6699053d8e99b0374b7287af5f20c0d584ed3bb6d652e20d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2024113015114_e28445dccaa225fd6699053d8e99b0374b7287af5f20c0d584ed3bb6d652e20d" data-rendition-name="original" width="236" height="326" loading="lazy" alt="Labour mobility"> <figcaption>Gyanendra's father ‘Arabe Kafle’.</figcaption> </figure>  The bar is currently set very low, and many workers worry if they will get the promised job, or be able to pay off recruitment loans. Nepalis need reliable employers and recruiters so ‘good migration outcome’ is not just simply about workers getting the promised job or wages, but about attaining their full potential.&nbsp; Outgoing workers need better guidance to make the most of their overseas opportunity. They currently are required to take pre-departure orientation training courses that cover basic do’s and don'ts.&nbsp; But also needed is practical career guidance to improve job readiness with advice on cross-training, building soft skills, networking, promotions so they can make the most of their migration with long-term growth.&nbsp; Successful returnees like Rudra and Shiva would be stellar mentors for younger workers. Exposure, work ethic, learning, skills, technology transfer, and networks are ‘social remittances’ and can be positive gains for Nepal besides financial remittances. &nbsp;

Upasana Khadka

Not just financial, but social remittances

&nbsp;This is the 53rdedition of Diaspora Diaries, a regular column about migration in Nepali Times. I was the first migrant to the Gulf from my village of Chagariya of Dhanusha district. We had heard of people who had gone to Saudi Arabia from neighbouring villages and done well for themselves.&nbsp; There were five children to feed and raise, and we did not have much land. Foreign employment seemed like a good choice. After I left in 1992, many others from my village also became migrant workers, including relatives. I have vivid memories of the day I left home. The whole village showed up to drop me off at the bus station. It was like a wedding. My family members wept, they did not know if I would come back alive. There was so much uncertainty. Nowadays migrating has become so common that people come and go without anyone knowing.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112410118_c15bcbb869d4335ebf5c6bc91ae754982453df2e180299b03eb3f198f8c7c327.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024112410118_c15bcbb869d4335ebf5c6bc91ae754982453df2e180299b03eb3f198f8c7c327" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> <figcaption>Ram Dhani Yadav with his family.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112113110_19fd8eadc8fe5ea082dc8ad899dd19643daca0bc7638c1db6e7175a56b56e9dd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024112113110_19fd8eadc8fe5ea082dc8ad899dd19643daca0bc7638c1db6e7175a56b56e9dd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1768" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> </figure>  Getting on the plane was scary. I had a window seat and the flight attendant helped us with our seat belts and offered us food. I chose the vegetarian meal, and even though they offered beer, I stuck to Dew. Someone from the company was waiting for us at Dammam airport. And the heat! It burnt all the hair on my head. It was impossible without AC. But even in Nepal the heat is suffocating now, and it is hard working on the farm. Seems like we imported not just money, but also the heat from Saudi Arabia. After a couple of months as a labourer, I lost interest in the work. Luckily, I got a job as a company barber since I had experience. I cut the hair of fellow workers from Nepal, India, Pakistan, Korea and the Philippines.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112410118_e8c60f57bd767053f067400da4fcf76514662d4bd418a011b72a30356a3633d8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2024112410118_e8c60f57bd767053f067400da4fcf76514662d4bd418a011b72a30356a3633d8" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> <figcaption>Barbers' tools that Yadav used after he got a job as a company barber in Saudi Arabia.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112410118_ff2a87da06735fa254b9a10e35fa5163527fbe939421b875150dd02b9adde17c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024112410118_ff2a87da06735fa254b9a10e35fa5163527fbe939421b875150dd02b9adde17c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> <figcaption>Yadav with the mirrior he used for his side-job as a barber.</figcaption> </figure>  &nbsp;The workers did not have to pay, but if they liked it they gave me handsome tips, fruit juice or even a crate of canned Pepsi. I chatted in Hindi with the Indians and Pakistanis. Those working in scaffolding, welding or drivers earned more and tipped better. Low paid workers left less tips, but I did not mind. I worked in the company’s hair salon which had a fancy revolving chair and big mirror. For off hours and holidays, I had my own makeshift barber corner in camp as my side hustle. I bought my own mirror, hung it on a rod and my clients sat on a stool. I would also drop by one of the salons in the market to earn some extra cash on our days off. Times were different back then. There were no mobiles and my wife had to travel a long way to receive calls on a CDMA phone from Ram Dayal’s shop at a pre-arranged date and time. The calls were brief because they were expensive.&nbsp; We had more detailed communications through cassette tapes that we sent each other. Whenever I felt homesick, I listened to the voices of my wife and children over and over again – especially the girls who were always loud and chirpy.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112113110_d91691006f5ab08532b5a2e76e737c2dfd9edcff175bd5617f9053a4269f17ce.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2024112113110_d91691006f5ab08532b5a2e76e737c2dfd9edcff175bd5617f9053a4269f17ce" data-rendition-name="original" width="2056" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> <figcaption>This is the cassette tape case Yadav had sent home from Saudi Arabia over three decades ago. His handwriting reads: Sender: Ram Dhani Yadav, Saudi Arab (Dammam) Receiver: Sita Devi Yadav, Ward No 3, Chagariya, Nepal </figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112113114_86cc0ffc1a1df040656a31f8876f2d48cc50b6f1f96b4ee8840c2174fce45c98.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2024112113114_86cc0ffc1a1df040656a31f8876f2d48cc50b6f1f96b4ee8840c2174fce45c98" data-rendition-name="original" width="1791" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> </figure>  When I missed my family, I would play the tapes on a Sony that I bought for 60 riyal. When I was alone in my camp dorm, I would record whatever I wanted to tell my family, replay the recording and if it was good enough, I sent it to Nepal with some cash, wrapping it all in layers of cellotape. Every night before going to sleep, I would re-listen to the voices of my family. I kept the player close to my ears at a very low volume as I shared the room with four or five others. Even hearing about mundane everyday things from the village over and over again in the voices of my wife and daughters filled me with joy after work. One day, someone from management said I had a call from Nepal. It was news of my youngest son’s death, and that was a painful moment. He was just 18 months old. In a tape that followed, my family filled in the details: he had died of measles. I responded by recording my own feelings on tape and consoled them.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112410118_9e698ea6b9c7d9806444eed194df1227249003ba5b8644557ebdcef549e7263e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2024112410118_9e698ea6b9c7d9806444eed194df1227249003ba5b8644557ebdcef549e7263e" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> <figcaption>Yadav now talks to his son, who is also overseas for work, through video calls on his mobile phone.</figcaption> </figure>  My company offered to send me home on mourning break for a month. What was the point? My son was already gone, so I could not bring him back. Instead, I grieved on my own in Saudi Arabia before I resumed work. The company was kind enough to pay me my basic wages. During my time overseas, I came home thrice. When I left for Saudi Arabia after my third vacation home, I wept as my mother was in poor health and paralysed. I just could not stay away, so three weeks later I returned to Nepal on a one-way ticket. I brought back my barbershop mirror, and it still hangs on my wall. <div class="embed-block"><div><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.25%;"><iframe src="//cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fembed%2FDXX3kPW42oc%3Fsi%3DolveYQBO4UYjBKl&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div></div> <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/50-diaspora-diaries-in-nepali-times">Diaspora Diaries</a> is a regular column in Nepali Times in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad.

"The first migrant worker from my village"

Quake survivors migrate for work

I was born in Mumbai where my father worked as a watchman. When I was just four years old, my parents decided that it would be best if my mother went back to our home district of Achham in Nepal to take care of our house and farm. And off she went with my one-year-old brother. In her absence, we lived close to his workplace. He worked shifts, and was not always home when I returned from school. I learnt to cook for both of us at a young age, even though I do not consider myself a good cook.&nbsp; From childhood, I had this innate sense of responsibility and completed my homework or rote-learned for exams even when I was not under parental watch.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241101221140_2a8ae15dc440b94aff7a6146e7ce457bb21376cbd206d1ff503e9f83ea2a4334.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241101221140_2a8ae15dc440b94aff7a6146e7ce457bb21376cbd206d1ff503e9f83ea2a4334" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51 NT"> <figcaption>Bishwokarma was married at 15 to a 13-year-old girl also from Achham who, like him, was also born and raised in Mumbai.</figcaption> </figure>  Growing up around Nepali families in the neighbourhood, I picked up Nepali. Not having a mother figure around, I did not really know what I missed as it had always been that way. My mother and I communicated in letters that were about a paragraph-long without much substance other than basic pleasantries and updates from school. I was more accustomed to my father, with whom I shared a special bond. I married young at 15 to a 13-year old girl who was also born in Mumbai to migrants from Achham. My mother came to my wedding and it was the first time we met after she had left over a decade ago. My mother returned with my wife to Achham where my city grown wife learnt how to do village household chores. Unsurprisingly, she did not like it, but she stayed on for two years. While she was trained by my mother in Achham, I was continuing my school in Mumbai.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241101221140_dbb23b8a76397c7cd7b9b640455a6d0b274d7411e91032a34d118a33d1ac0069.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241101221140_dbb23b8a76397c7cd7b9b640455a6d0b274d7411e91032a34d118a33d1ac0069" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51 NT"> </figure>  After my wedding, I went to Achham for the first time ever. With no mental image of what it would look like, I did not know what to expect. Life in Nepal took some getting used to but with the visits I grew attached to Nepal and I got familiar with Nepali songs and movies via YouTube. My father eventually moved back to Nepal. My mother needed more help around the house to tend the fields. By then, I had settled down in Mumbai with my wife and four children and worked as a watchman, just like my father. My now-jobless father now depended on me. This put more financial pressure on me. I used to enjoy playing cricket growing up. But when household responsibilities start weighing on you from a young age, there is no space in life for hobbies and passions. By the time I was of age to discover and nurture my interests, I was already worrying about raising my children well.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241101221140_0ccd2cd0e243a5124f13047a2d7caad5df462b2e396745b0381393e385b76301.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241101221140_0ccd2cd0e243a5124f13047a2d7caad5df462b2e396745b0381393e385b76301" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51 NT"> </figure>  Life in Mumbai is fast-paced. Everyone is running around. My company closed down, and I lost my job. I then bought an autorickshaw, and my daily income varies between INR 700-1,500. I prefer this more than being a watchman, as there is more freedom. It is self-paced, and there is time to rest. There is no boss to order me around. My three sons work as a vegetable vendor, a real estate agent and a cinematographer, and my daughter is a nurse. They also take care of some of the household expenses. What I earn is just for my pocket money and to keep myself occupied. What would I do sitting around idly? If I had a traditional job, I would be retiring in three years after turning 60. But as an autorickshaw driver, there is no end at sight. I will retire when my body demands it.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241101221140_2f370b6e52af5460cfd7b4a4761a557baef3a3b2158cfdaa5ac3bb0bdcd0065b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241101221140_2f370b6e52af5460cfd7b4a4761a557baef3a3b2158cfdaa5ac3bb0bdcd0065b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51 NT"> </figure>  I don’t interact much with my customers as I have to keep my eye on the road at all times. Mumbai traffic is bad. Sometimes, customers hail three-wheelers like mine when the cars they have booked online do not arrive on time because of traffic. They have meetings to attend or flights to catch, and they are thankful when I stop to pick them up.&nbsp; Other than that, the interactions are quite limited. Most customers are glued to their phones. Some even bring out their laptops. My job is to ensure they reach their destinations. Three years ago, I received a call from Achham about my father’s heart attack. I was arranging my travel to Nepal, but he passed away that night. I still went to Achham for his last rites, and I cannot describe how difficult it was to make that long journey alone while grieving my father’s loss. As I changed buses and trains across India, all I could think about was my father.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024110203118_3da6e8d233ba52600ae4902d65ba754436340d577e6fce5e3c91f39a507866c3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2024110203118_3da6e8d233ba52600ae4902d65ba754436340d577e6fce5e3c91f39a507866c3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1700" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51"> </figure>  We moved my mother to Gujarat where my brother works as a watchman as we did not want to leave her alone in Achham. Our house there is now empty.&nbsp; Just like I was close to my father who raised me, my brother is close to our mother. My brother and I have never spent more than a few days together because we were separated as children. I visit them in Gujarat once in a while. I have lived a simple and perhaps even a boring life. There have been enough hardships, but nothing that I have not been able to sort out on my own. I have not had to depend on others. God has been restrained in the way he sends me problems. We are all entangled in our own झमेला troubles. Translated from a conversation with the author. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/50-diaspora-diaries-in-nepali-times">Diaspora Diaries</a> is a regular column in Nepali Times in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad. The previous 50 columns can be accessed in this <a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1uR6pzwfR91KAezRODgDIz2FWI6m2xjPL/view">ebook</a>. Watch video of Harka Lal Bishwokarma <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rusYgB9B3rs">here</a>. <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/rusYgB9B3rs?si=-E3SnyAv00I3ZUm1" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>

“I have lived a simple, boring life”

Just before Dasain this time last year, two young Nepali women were about to leave for Dubai. They were offered jobs to perform at cultural programs, but did not have proper travel documents.
One of them was a friend of Archana Darji, a journalist with our sister publication <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/">himalkhabar.com</a>. As <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/news/142859">she writes in her blog</a>, it was clear they were being trafficked by a gang of recruiters who had paid off Kathmandu airport immigration.&nbsp;
The girls had to support their families, and were determined to go despite knowing the risks. One of them soon returned because she fell sick, and could not bring herself to tell Darji what the work was in Dubai.&nbsp;
One year later, she has once more paid a recruiter for a job in Dubai, and is about to fly off again.
Most of the focus on overseas remittances gives credit to male migrant workers sending money home. The question around migrant women is often why they go despite knowing about exploitation and abuse.&nbsp;
That is the wrong question. We know why. Instead, we should be asking what can be done immediately to ensure safe migration for Nepali women — both in Nepal and in destination countries.
In 2017, following high profile cases of abuse of women domestic migrant workers in West Asia, the government imposed a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/two-decades-of-debate-on-female-migration">blanket ban on female migration</a>. This misguided decision drove recruitment underground, forcing women to take unauthorised channels, increasing the risk of trafficking en route.
Many were stranded in Mumbai or Delhi, and being outside the safety net of Nepali embassies and consulates made their rescue and repatriation difficult.
<a href="https://figshare.com/articles/online_resource/Reducing_Vulnerability_to_Exploitation_of_Nepali_Migrant_Domestic_Workers/26892934?file=48931666">A new study by Brunel University London</a> calls for Nepali women migrants to be given skills-training and language orientation so they can migrate without being trafficked, exploited or abused.&nbsp;
‘The ban overlooks evidence of positive outcomes for Nepali domestic workers and leads to several unintended and damaging consequences,’ the study says, adding there should be ‘concrete reintegration plans for returnee domestic workers at the local level of governance to assure their social, political and economic empowerment’.
The report's author Ayushman Bhagat, lecturer of Political Geography at Brunel, interviewed women including recent returnees in Jhapa. He found them distrustful and angry with the government for making it more difficult for them to migrate.&nbsp;
“Instead of solving structural issues of class, caste, education, these women are having to bear the burden of historical marginalisation,” Bhagat told Nepali Times. “All they want is for their children to not have to lead the same life they did, and migration is the quickest way to their empowerment.”
Many <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/homes-away-from-home">women migrating for domestic work</a> are at greater risk of being cheated by recruiters in Nepal, trafficked en route, and abused in destination countries. Even when they do return bearing the scars of abuse, they leave again out of sheer desperation.
Officially, one in every ten Nepali migrant workers is a woman but many more who are undocumented or migrate to India are not counted. Their <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/female-migrant-workers-hold-up-half-the-sky">contribution to the economy and family income</a> is rarely acknowledged.&nbsp;
This is hardly surprising, given the marginalisation Nepali women face at home, and the double discrimination women of excluded caste and ethnicities experience in society.
Over the years, the government has flip flopped on women migration, introducing shamefully restrictive and ad hoc gender-insensitive rules. One such regulation (<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepali-women-protest-proposed-travel-restrictions">later revoked after outrage</a>, pictured) even required <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/history-of-female-im-mobility-in-nepal">women under 40 to obtain permission letters</a> from male family members and the local government for travel.
Part of the problem is the media’s doom and gloom portrayal of migration that magnifies the negative.&nbsp;
True, there are harrowing cases of abuse and exploitation, and workers are cheated every step of the way, often by their own relatives and recruiters. But Bhagat says there are many other positive outcomes for women workers.
“We must highlight how the women are contributing to society, not everyone is being exploited and frankly to think otherwise is a very privileged mindset,” adds Bhagat.
Nepal’s graduation to middle income country is almost entirely supported by remittances reducing the poverty rate. Many returnees have improved family living standards, and created jobs for other Nepalis.
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/labour-mobility/migrating-for-domestic-work">Restrictions and bans never work</a>. Bhagat has some common sense steps to making migration safer for women: &nbsp;
- Invite all women workers to register with Nepali missions regardless of their status with no repercussion.
- Strengthen the capacity of Nepali missions abroad to help workers in need at dedicated service centres.
- Form government-to-government legally binding arrangements for safe migration.
- Thoroughly vet <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-long-way-to-europe">new labour markets</a> and regulate recruitment at the local levels.
Sonia Awale

Safer migration for women

Climber, expedition leader and later a supplier of bottled oxygen to Himalayan mountaineers, Henry Barclay Todd died on 3 November 2025 in his favourite place on earth, Kathmandu.&nbsp;
Todd was larger than life, a metaphor often used, yet it could not be more fitting. Standing nearly 2m tall, and possessing an unshakeable will, he lived life on a grand scale, both in body and spirit.&nbsp;
Todd was a pillar in the Himalayan climbing community, supporting many mountaineers across Nepal and Pakistan, making it possible for them to fulfil the dream of standing on the world’s highest peaks. He believed deeply in the strength, skill, and potential of the Sherpa people, and offered them opportunities that might otherwise have remained out of reach.&nbsp;
“Thank you, Henry. Your trust changed my life. Rest in peace, my leader, my teacher, my friend,” said Dorjee Gyelzen Sherpa in his tribute.
Born in 1945 to Royal Air Force officer Henry Todd and May Todd of the Women’s Royal Air Force, Henry spent his early years in Singapore. He led a lively childhood with his two brothers, far removed from the mountains that would later define his path.&nbsp;
A gifted swimmer like his father, Henry never pursued the sport professionally. Instead, after returning to Dundee as a teenager and attending seven different schools, he set off for London, where he began working for an insurance company before finding his true calling in adventure.
Henry Todd first came to Nepal in the mid-1980s and made his first attempt on Ama Dablam in 1987, an expedition that marked the beginning of an extraordinary and colourful climbing career. <a href="https://www.himalayandatabase.com/" target="_blank">The Himalayan Database</a> lists 61 expeditions that he led in Nepal alone — there were more in the Karakoram, Argentina and the Alps.&nbsp;
But Todd would joyfully say that a few hard Scottish ascents held a more personal meaning to him than even the greatest Himalayan summits.
Over the decades, he crossed paths with many legendary climbers like Anatoli Boukreev, Jerzy Kukuczka, Doug Scott and Chris Bonington as well as celebrities including members of Pink Floyd and Nobel Prize laureates whom he befriended.&nbsp;
He had a gift to never name-drop, but would simply mention that he had had lunch with Minnie Driver (niece of his long-time friend Andra) or that he had bought his first car from Donald Sutherland. For Todd, these were not bragging rights, they were simply part of the colourful tapestry of his life.
Todd’s life was filled with extraordinary experiences from surviving plane crashes, avalanches and earthquakes to quietly solving countless problems, which was one of his favourite past-times. His hands, famously large and steady, were always ready to help whether in the chaos of the mountains or the calm of a base camp.&nbsp;
With his sharp sense of humour and the beloved exclamation “Whoopie!”,he could bring lightness even to the toughest moments. He never tired of taking on challenges or helping when someone was in need, and he enriched so many people’s lives with his endless stories.
His legacy is immense. He helped build the human backbone of Himalayan climbing, enabling generations of climbers to test themselves in the world’s highest places. With his passing, an era of bold, spirited Himalayan guiding has come to a close.
Todd survived by a loving family, many close friends and a global community of climbers and Sherpas who will never forget him and his endless tales.&nbsp;
His family said in a statement: ‘Henry’s strength, warmth and unyielding belief in others will live on far above the clouds. He was indestructible in our eyes and in our hearts, he always will be.’
There will be a memorial service at Pashupati Temple in Kathmandu on 8 November 2025 around lunchtime.

Henry Barclay Todd, 80

The autumn mountaineering season is not over yet, and already there have been 12 fatalities on Himalayan peaks in Nepal.
Of the 1,450 climbing permits issued, 436 were for Mt Ama Dablam (6,812m), 374 for Mt Manaslu (8,163m) and 186 for Himlung Himal (7,126m). There were deaths on all three mountains.
The death of two French climbers on Ama Dablam happened before unseasonal blizzards hit the mountains. But Cyclone Montha from the Bay of Bengal brought on high winds and up to 1m of snow in the peak trekking and mountaineering season.
This increased avalanche conditions, and made helicopter evacuation of stranded and injured climbers difficult. Lower down the mountains, more than 1,000 trekkers from Nepal and around the world were stuck in the Annapurnas, Manaslu circuit and the Khumbu.
However, there have also been allegations that it was not just the weather that delayed rescues. Multiple levels of bureaucracy and the need for flight permits to restricted areas like Manang and Manaslu critically delayed evacuation flights.
Italian climbers Farronato Stefano and Caputo Alessandro were found dead in their tent at Panbari Himal Camp I (6,887m) in the Manaslu area. They had been trapped by heavy snowfall since 28 October, and their bodies were found on 4 November by a team from the expedition organisers, Sherpa Alpine Trekking Service. The team was made up of high level mountain guides and expedition leader Valter Perlino.
The team had been climbing to Camp 3 but decided to descend to base camp because of thrombosis in Perlino’s left foot. The two climbers who would eventually get trapped decided to break at Camp I, a decision that would prove fatal after the projected six-day snowfall arrived two days early.
“They were sleeping in a tent and were buried under 2.5 metres of compacted snow. It happened during the night between Thursday and Friday. While they were sleeping, absurd,” said Perlino.
A deadly incident took place the morning of 3 November, when five foreigners and two Nepalis died in an avalanche on Yalung Ri at 5,630m in the Rolwaling. They were part of a larger group of 15 that were acclimatising for an attempt on the nearby Dolma Khang (6,332m).
Local authorities in Gauri Shankar Conservation Area say calls were immediately made to helicopter companies as well as various ministries in Kathmandu that have to issue permits to fly to the region bordering China.
But the permits for rescue flights to Rolwaling Valley were delayed by eight hours. Rescue flights in these areas require permission from the Ministry of Tourism, the Ministry of Defence, the Home Ministry, and the Civil Aviation Authority of Nepal (CAAN).
Experts say this should be exempted in times of emergency when time is of the essence. CAAN spokesperson Pratap Babu Tiwari claimed to not know of the avalanche on Yalung Ri and deflected questions to the permission department.&nbsp;
There was a similar tragedy on Himlung Himal in Manang as well. Australian Chin-Tark Chan, 49, was climbing with 8K Expeditions and fell ill on 27 October at about 6,800m, developing snow blindness and loss of mobility. The guides immediately called the US insurance company Global Rescue for authorisation of a longline rescue.
Global Rescue refused, saying a rescue at that height would violate Nepal’s aviation rules and put the pilot at unacceptable risk. They asked the guides to transport Chan to Camp 3 at 6,400m to a permitted altitude. Seeing it was a life-or-death situation for its client, 8K called in an aerial rescue anyway, but the helicopter could not land due to bad weather. Chan died slightly below Camp 3 on 29 October.
Global Rescue said in a statement that it was ready to send in a helicopter after Chan had been transported to Camp 3, but several hours were lost for that attempt, and the weather did not get better in the next few days.
To underscore just how dangerous helicopter rescues in the Himalaya can be in bad weather, a chopper from Altitude Air skidded off the helipad at Lobuche below Mt Everest while trying to rescue trekkers in whiteout conditions.&nbsp;
CAAN announced a ban on flights during blizzards or dense fog. While rescue missions are often heroic and courageous, they should not be foolhardy if conditions are unsafe and the risk to pilots and rescuers too high. This autumn was a lesson for future expeditions and for the Nepal government.&nbsp;
The Italian duo on Panbari were caught out by snow that arrived two days ahead of schedule, but the group on Yalung Ri should have postponed their ascent after multiple warnings from the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology to avoid high altitudes.

Deadly autumn in Himalayan climbing

Traditional donors have sharply scaled back their aid commitments to developing countries over the past year. Some, like the United States, have virtually eliminated their aid programs. According to the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD), official development assistance (ODA) from member countries <a href="https://www.oecd.org/en/about/news/press-releases/2025/04/official-development-assistance-2024-figures.html" target="_blank">declined by 7.1%</a> in 2024, its first annual drop in six years. This trend was not limited to a few major donors. Of the 33 members of the OECD’s Development Assistance Committee (DAC), 22 slashed their aid budgets, and only four countries met the United Nations’ target of allocating 0.7% of gross national income to ODA. The outlook for the coming year offers little hope for improvement, as major DAC donors have announced additional cuts. Most notably, US President Donald Trump’s administration has suspended most foreign aid and dismantled the Agency for International Development (USAID), which dispersed most US government aid dollars. Meanwhile, the United Kingdom plans to <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/clyrkkv4gd7o" target="_blank">reduce aid spending</a> from 0.5% of GNI to 0.3% by 2027. Similar retrenchment across Europe and North America is reshaping international assistance, disrupting humanitarian and climate-related programs, and creating financing gaps in critical sectors such as health, education, and clean energy. In our 2017 book <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/books/going-beyond-aid/B48F59C6D8D2790D403A1A0C44B37612" target="_blank">Going Beyond Aid</a>, we urged developing-country governments to reduce their dependence on foreign aid, not only because it was becoming an unreliable source of funding, but also because other, better ways of financing development were becoming more available. That message is more urgent than ever. As reliance on aid becomes untenable, the international community must mobilise a broader array of financing sources to advance green and sustainable growth. This includes national development banks, industrial investment funds, sovereign wealth funds, and institutional investment in public markets, as well as innovative mechanisms such as debt swaps and public-private partnerships (PPPs). These tools can unlock domestic resources, attract long-term investors, and create synergies between public goals and private capital. Equity investment offers a promising avenue for engaging non-traditional development partners while reducing developing countries’ dependence on debt. Government investment funds, public and private financial institutions, and other private actors can participate by taking equity stakes in public enterprises, financing infrastructure projects, or joining PPPs. Such participation not only alleviates debt burdens but also improves the performance and management of public assets. As government-funded, mission-driven institutions, public development banks (PDBs) have the potential to provide patient capital for green and sustainable investment in emerging and developing economies (EMDEs). Building on the <a href="http://www.dfidatabase.pku.edu.cn/index.htm" target="_blank">pioneering database</a> of public development and financial institutions created by the Institute of New Structural Economics at Peking University, future research can identify effective ways to harness these institutions to fuel low-carbon growth. Responding to growing demand from the economies of the Global South, development partners have increasingly adopted an “entire value chain” approach to the green transition in recent years. This strategy facilitates transfers of low-carbon technologies, diffusion of digital innovations (including trade in services), and industrial modernisation, enabling countries included in China’s Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) to accelerate their shift toward sustainable development. Empirical research supports this approach. An analysis covering 139 countries <a href="https://ember-energy.org/latest-insights/the-first-evidence-of-a-take-off-in-solar-in-africa/" target="_blank">finds</a> that, following policy directives to incorporate green and low-carbon principles into the BRI, carbon intensity (CO₂ emissions per unit of GDP) among participating countries declined significantly between 2013 and 2022. These findings are consistent with another <a href="https://ember-energy.org/latest-insights/the-first-evidence-of-a-take-off-in-solar-in-africa/" target="_blank">recent study</a> showing how China’s solar-energy expansion has helped transform Africa’s power sector. Investment in infrastructure and industrial development can also generate positive spillover effects. Evidence from Sub-Saharan Africa <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/jors.70023" target="_blank">shows</a> that the presence of at least one Chinese-financed infrastructure project in a second-order administrative region (comparable to a municipality) is associated with a 5% increase in nighttime luminosity – a widely used proxy for economic activity. Neighbouring regions experienced a 10-15% rise in luminosity, indicating that the benefits of such projects extend well beyond the immediate investment site.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251104131124_1a11d248a89b0785bc7d7f1d9f721e7e7a2563cbd579c3c672a0900220c19171.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20251104131124_1a11d248a89b0785bc7d7f1d9f721e7e7a2563cbd579c3c672a0900220c19171" data-rendition-name="original" width="720" height="405" loading="lazy" alt="development aid and China"></figure>  These outcomes underscore the critical role of infrastructure investment, particularly in energy and transportation projects. By improving electricity access, affordability, and connectivity, they reduce energy poverty, bolster public services, and stimulate economic activity in underserved areas. To meet the evolving challenges of development finance, both traditional and non-traditional donors and creditors should move beyond aid and adopt multidimensional strategies that combine trade, investment, infrastructure, green technology, and digital connectivity, including fintech solutions, to support EMDEs. Importantly, such collaborations should be viewed as a mutual learning process in which partners assume complementary roles and shared responsibilities. To be sure, there have been missteps along the way. China’s financing of coal-fired power plants before 2021, for example, had slowed reduction in CO₂ emissions. But these outcomes, once recognised as policy errors, can help strengthen accountability and foster self-correcting mechanisms within the international development ecosystem. Through ongoing learning and adaptation, global partners can build a more resilient, inclusive, and sustainable framework for development finance. © <a href="https://www.project-syndicate.org/">Project Syndicate</a> Justin Yifu Lin, a former World Bank chief economist and Senior VP, is the honorary dean of the National School of Development and director of the Institute of New Structural Economics at Peking University. Yan Wang is Senior Academic Researcher at Boston University’s Global Development Policy Center.

Development finance must shift away from aid

This is the 73rd episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. I don’t remember playing with dolls as a little girl. There is not much to remember from my childhood.&nbsp; My responsibilities began at a very young age, as I had two younger brothers to take care of. I was born in Sarlahi, but we moved around quite a bit as my father was in the government and got transferred frequently.&nbsp; From Rasuwa to Dang, from Nepalgunj to Kathmandu. I struggled to adjust in Kathmandu because I joined Grade 9 in the middle of the term. The education was different and fellow students also did not support me initially. But over time, I adjusted and made friends. I did not dream of becoming a nurse. It was by accident. I wanted to pursue medicine, but failed the entrance exam by a few marks. I did not want to lose a year, so decided to take up microbiology instead.&nbsp; I got married after my undergraduate, and my husband encouraged me to take up something more technical like nursing or engineering instead of Masters in Microbiology. As my quantitative background was weak, I chose nursing. I felt like I was born to be a nurse. Juggling my married life and studies was difficult. My teachers would often ask me why I am falling behind. It was not easy, but I managed and took up a full-time job as a nurse. There are challenges being a nurse in Nepal. You are overworked, underpaid, there is lack of appreciation. Superiors can be overbearing. These problems persist. But the bright spot is that you get to serve fellow Nepalis, and be close to your family.&nbsp; Just like I had no intention initially of becoming a nurse, I had no intention of migrating overseas. But life had different plans for me. After my baby boy was born, I noticed that something was off. Even at nine months he had not started crawling or sitting. As a nurse I knew something was wrong, and I took him for check-ups. He tested negative for down syndrome, but he had a heart defect.&nbsp; The cardiologist recommended that I take him to India where he was diagnosed with Williams Syndrome, a rare genetic condition that affects 1 in 10,000 people. It delayed his development. I looked for therapy. It was either not effective, or too expensive. Some schools also refused to admit him, and it drove me to tears.&nbsp; My family members overseas in the UK, US told me to emigrate as there were better facilities for differently abled children. So I decided to apply to the UK. Luckily just then there were calls for candidates under the Nepal-UK government-to-government pilot scheme for 100 nurses. Only 40 met the criteria, and I was one of them.&nbsp; I still remember the day I received the news on the day of my puja. There were people around me, and they told me that it was the result of my fasting and devotion on that auspicious day. Perhaps it was. Life was taking a new turn, and I was happy. I made it to the UK in February 2024 without paying a single paisa to any broker. The G2G scheme was unique as we were treated with dignity and valued for our skills: they covered costs for the ticket and visa, reimbursed us for exams we had taken and costs involved in the preparation and testing of the Objective Structured Clinical Examination were also covered.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251106071148_dc5a0d0ea3024b34a4f2735754f8eb67a650bc7f61b98c75d589676c65b02a0c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251106071148_dc5a0d0ea3024b34a4f2735754f8eb67a650bc7f61b98c75d589676c65b02a0c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Nurses NT"> </figure>  It was of course difficult to leave my son behind. But I was doing it for his future. I had the option of taking him from the start, but it was a new place and I wanted to be well-settled and knowledgeable about the options available for him before bringing him along. As I packed, he would ask me to take him with me in my suitcase. It did not seem like he was affected by my departure, and it was only later that his teachers said that he would express his feelings more openly at school. He just did not know how to tell me he missed me, and he would tell teachers he was worried I had forgotten him if we did not speak for a day.&nbsp; He missed me, and that realisation made me emotional. But I had to carry on. Life in the UK was difficult in the beginning. Even so, I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. Fortunately I had cooperative staff who patiently answered my questions. I think I would have been irritated if I were in their place. But they did not seem to mind, and their support and guidance made it easy for me to adjust to the new work environment. APPRECIATION I still struggle to understand the accent of my English patients, and have ask the matron for help. They compliment me on my English, but I can speak better than I understand. The good thing about working in the UK is that you are appreciated for your work, which can be motivating. Sometimes, after a long day’s work you get a message from your supervisor acknowledging your work with a thank you. That’s enough to erase your tiredness.&nbsp; So far I have received 32 WOW nominations which are acknowledgements from patients for a job well done. It can be motivating, especially in the beginning. The main difference between the Alpana who first left Kathmandu for the UK and the Alpana now is that I am a much more confident person. What makes a good nurse? Skills, knowledge and qualifications are of course a given. But mostly, you need humanity. A smiling face. The way you communicate. Your empathy. These attributes can already solve many problems that patients are facing. This is my second time back home in the last 20 months. And this time, I have arranged for my son’s visa. I will go back after Tihar with my son and husband.&nbsp; I am happy, but also a little nervous about what awaits us. What kind of school will I put him in? Will it really be different from schools here? Will his needs be addressed? Will it be like here, or will he be able to adjust?&nbsp; But I am determined to make it work. Success for me would be if he adjusted well and there is a change in his condition. He still cannot recognise alphabets and read words like kids in his age group. Hopefully he will get learning support in the UK. He also has a knack for music, and this is common among individuals with Williams Syndrome. His ears perk up when he hears music, and he takes part in musical events at school. He still does not recognise letters &nbsp;but he uses voice commands to search for guitar videos on YouTube. I will enrol him in music classes, and help him develop this gift. For now, I worry how he will behave on his long flight. He has a short attention span and gets restless. He is also very social and will want to speak with everyone around him, and might irritate fellow passengers.&nbsp; I have already started trying to make him understand that he will need to behave on the flight. He nods in agreement. Let’s see how it goes. &nbsp;

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